


and went to war with all in me

by ultranos



Series: used to be a part of me that never thought to doubt [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultranos/pseuds/ultranos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes really smart people are really really dumb.</p>
<p>In which Alex is forcefully reminded of her humanity and Lucy finds herself in a marathon of patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and went to war with all in me

“So how are things going with Lucy?”  Kara asks seemingly off-hand. 

“Good? Maybe? I think?”  Alex mumbles as she reaches for the last slice of pizza. 

“Well, that about covers all the options.  And hey!  I wanted that!” She throws a balled-up napkin over the coffeetable.  And, because Kara is a _Kryptonian_ , that napkin-ball actually stings when it smacks her in the forehead. 

“Ow!  Dammit, Kara!  You had six slices!” 

Kara pouts. 

Alex sighs and throws herself back against the sofa.  “This is the potstickers again, isn’t it.  Why do I even try?”  She waves her hand.  “Fine.” 

Crowing for victory, Kara dives after the pizza and starts munching with an incredibly satisfied expression.  “Aw, don’t be mad.  I’m sure Lucy can make sure you’re fed.” 

Alex makes a noise like she’s dying in the back of her throat and pulls a pillow over her face.  “Gaaaah, I cannot deal with this.”  She also so does not want to talk about this. 

But Kara apparently either didn’t get the memo or doesn’t care.  “Seriously, who else are you going to talk to about this?” 

“No one?  There’s nothing to talk about,” she says into the pillow. 

“Uh-huh right.  Try again, Alex.”  There’s a muffled thump.  “Come ooooon.” 

Alex peeks over the edge of the pillow.  Oh dammit, Kara’s pulled out the puppy eyes.  She groans and lowers the makeshift shield.  Those eyes should be illegal.  “Fine!  There’s just...I don’t know.”  Her sister just tilts her head, wordlessly prompting.  “I see her at work.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“And we’ve gone out, a few times.  For dinner.  Um...” 

“That’s it?” 

Alex rolls her eyes.  “No, we’ve been screwing each other senseless in a torrid love affair.  Yes, that’s it!  What do you expect?” 

“First of all, ew, I did not need that mental image, thank you very much.  Second of all, it’s been weeks.” 

“The DEO’s been busy...” 

Kara rolls her eyes to the ceiling, as if beseeching someone for patience.  “You know, you’re the one who told me relationships take work.  Alex, you have to be willing to try.” 

“I _am_ trying.  It’s just...” She makes a frustrated noise.  It’s still all so new, and if she’s honest with herself, she’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Lucy to realize that this was a mistake and to cut and run. 

This will end badly.  It always does. 

But Kara’s looking at her expectantly, and Alex would rather cut off her left arm than say _that_ to her sister, so instead she makes a vague motion with her hands. 

Somehow, Kara manages to translate that into actual words. “I just...you deserve a chance too, you know?  I don’t want you to be held back anymore.” 

That almost makes it worse.  Alex doesn’t know how to explain, wants to do it even less, that people like her...she knows it in her bones; she isn’t made for that.  So she doesn’t even try and instead redirects the conversation. 

“So, while we’re on the topic, how’s James?” 

“Wha...what does that have to do with anything?” she squeaks, face going bright red. 

Alex raises an eyebrow.  “Oh, if we’re going to pick apart my love life, you aren’t escaping it either, sister dear.” 

Kara stuffs the rest of the pizza in her mouth.

 

—

 

“Supergirl, what’s your status?” Alex barks into the mic as she races into the warehouse, a team of agents fanning out behind her. 

The DEO had gotten intel on yet another fugitive holed up in a warehouse by the docks.  As usual, Kara was taking point and Alex and the other agents were playing backup.  So far, it’s a really good thing they did.  The alien’s got a goon squad, and while pushovers to a Kryptonian, there’s enough of them to bog Supergirl down.  Which is bad because the actual target’s fucking dangerous, and that’s _without_ considering the fact that he looks like a velociraptor got spliced with a praying mantis by way of a goddamn tank. 

“Little busy!” 

“That’s not helpful!”  Alex growls through gritted teeth as she weaves through various loading equipment to the sounds of fighting.  The warehouse is built right over the water, being something between storage and a loading dock; the level of the building they’re on is fairly far above the surface of the water.  It’s a shitty place for a fight and a fantastic hideout if you can swim.  Which their fugitive can do quite well because he’s from an amphibian species because of course he is. 

Alex gets the fight in view just in time to see the bastard land a punch that would have broken the neck of anyone else.  Kara goes flying, slamming into the ground with an audible thump and rolling.  

Alex bites back a curse and brings her rifle up. 

The alien advances on Supergirl, who’s pushing herself up and even from here, Alex can see she’s disoriented, a cut on her face bleeding freely.  She’s not going to be able to defend herself in time, not from the alien’s wicked-sharp claws that can _actually make her bleed_.  There’s no backup coming, J’onn’s not here and a human would stand up to this guy about as well as tissue paper. 

Not that it really matters. 

Time slows down as Alex gets the target in her sights.  (This is stupid.)  A bullet to the head isn’t going to stop him, it’s just going to put his attention on her, and Alex bleeds much easier than her sister does.  

(This is stupid.)  

Kara is in danger.  Kara needs her.  

(This is how it goes, then.) 

Alex pulls the trigger. 

The bullet slams into the back of his head, snapping it forward.  He roars, spinning in place and he goes after her, clearing the distance in three leaping bounds.  Alex barely has time to get her rifle up as a makeshift shield, and the alien’s claws meet the metal with a rending squeal.  The weapon is wrenched from her grip and she quicksteps backwards to avoid being gutted. 

“Alex!” 

His foot buries itself into her stomach, not only driving the air from her lungs (something creaks, cracks and _fuck fuck fuck_ ) but slamming the base of her spine into the dock railing, flipping her over the edge.  Her head cracks against the dock on the way down, and the last thing Alex knows before the water rushes up to claim her is the sound of someone screaming from far away. 

—

 

Alex wakes up slowly.  Everything hurts.  Her chest feels like it’s on fire, her head feels like someone’s taken up jackhammering, and her mouth feels like something died in it, throat scrubbed raw.  She cracks open her eyelids and regrets it immediately. 

“Ow.” 

A Kara-shaped shadowy blur hovers over her immediately, blocking out that infernal light.  “Alex!” 

She tries to force her eyes to focus.  Kara’s still in her Supergirl suit, but other than a few cuts in the fabric, she appears fine.  Something inside Alex uncoils at that, relaxing with the knowledge that Kara’s safe.  She’s fine.  “Did you...?” 

For some reason, Kara looks even more upset.  “Yes, but what were you thinking?!  I had it under control!” 

“Didn’t look like it.” 

“You nearly died, Alex!”  Kara shouts.  Alex falls silent.  “He almost killed you.” 

“Kara...” 

Her sister’s fingers wrap around hers, tight in that way Kara does when she doesn’t want to let go but has to be restrained so she doesn’t crush and that more than anything makes Alex swallow hard.  “If you weren’t wearing a helmet, you would have broken your skull.  If I had been just a little slower...” Kara sniffs. 

“Hey, hey.  It’s okay.  I’m here, okay?” Alex tugs her down, and Kara comes willingly, burying her face into Alex’s shoulder.  Hot tears burn like acid on her skin, and everything inside her twists because she made her sister cry (again) goddammit.  But she can’t regret it because she’s here, she’s fine, and a bump on the head is more than enough to pay for that, right? 

She really is a horrible person, if she can’t even be sorry for making Kara cry. 

Someone clears their throat.  Alex looks up; Lucy’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed and hands gripping her sides.  She’s wearing some expression Alex can’t understand and it makes that twisting feeling worse.  “Welcome back,” Lucy says. 

Kara sniffs one more time before pulling back.  “Hey Lucy.”  She looks between the two of them.  “J’onn wanted to go over some, uh, stuff.  I’ll just...go do that now.” 

Alex blinks as Kara gives Lucy a quick hug and disappears out of the room, closing the door behind her.  “That was subtle.” 

“For Kara, yeah.”  Lucy comes over and _somehow_ looms over the side of the bed.   “How are you feeling?”

 “Like I got hit by a truck.”  Alex winces, a sharp pain shooting across her forehead.  She brings a hand up and discovers a bandage wrapped securely around her head. 

“That isn’t far off.”  She sighs.  “You’re out for six weeks, minimum.”

“What?” 

“Doctor’s orders.” 

“Yeah, I got that much.  I’m fine.”  Alex sits up quickly, tries to ignore the screaming in her torso at the movement.  Lucy lays a hand flat against her chest and pushes lightly.  It’s enough, though, to send Alex wheezing back into the bed with a thump.  “Oof.” 

“Yeah, right, tell me another.  Don’t do that.” 

She grits her teeth and scrambles up again.  “What the hell, Lucy.” 

Lucy pushes her back down again.  “For the love of — Danvers, lay down!” 

Alex tries a third time.  “Goddammit  I’m —” 

“You are not fine!  Do you know how fucking close you came to dying?  You weren’t _breathing_ when Kara fished you out of the harbor.  The medics cracked two of your ribs bringing you back.” 

Oh. 

Lucy’s knuckles are white from gripping the sides of her shirt.  “Six weeks, Danvers.” 

She looks like there’s more she wants to say, but they’re interrupted by the appearance of the doctor.  Apparently saviors these days come in white coats with medical degrees.  Dr. Liu goes over the litany of all the ways Alex has managed to break herself this time,  (“Congratulations, Director Danvers, I think three broken ribs, ten stitches, a near-drowning, and a concussion are a new record for you.  Please don’t try to beat it.”) and confirms the six-week benching, although she might be cleared for deskwork in three.  It’s less than comforting. 

“So I’m stuck here?” 

Liu rolls his eyes.  “Trust me, I want you out of my infirmary and to _stay_ away more than you do.  But no way in hell are you driving with a concussion and if I release you, that’s exactly what you’d try to do.”  He gives Alex a pointed look as soon as she opens her mouth.  “Don’t even try to deny it.” 

“I can drive her home,” Lucy cuts in.  “If that’s acceptable?” 

Liu nods.  “If you’re willing, Major, I have no problem with that.” 

Soon enough, Alex is bundled into Lucy’s car.  Even the seatbelt hurts as it’s strapped across her chest, but damned if she’s going to say anything.  Not to mention the effort of just getting into the car was exhausting (maybe that’s the good drugs Liu gave her talking).  But even Lucy is silent as she drives, and the part of Alex that’s marginally more awake is poking her brain that something isn’t right.  

That part just gets more persistent as they draw nearer to Alex’s apartment.  When they finally get there, it’s more painful than she’d ever admit to trudge up the three flights to her door, and her nerves are getting even more frayed because Lucy is doing that hovering-not-hovering thing.  As soon as she gets her door open, Alex just...let’s herself collapse into the couch.  If it wouldn’t be hell on her ribs, she’d just lay face-down on the damn thing. 

Lucy closes the door after, then stands still for a moment, taking everything in.  This...really wasn’t how she wanted to show her apartment off.  Fact is, Alex wanted to show-off her apartment to her girlfriend (?) approximately never, with a possibility for when hell froze over.  She’s acutely aware suddenly of just how bare it is.  Normally, if she thought about it, she’d write it off as “modern” or “spartan”, but the fact of the matter is that she spends so little time here anyway that there’s no point.  But now, Lucy takes up the space around her, filling the room in a way that just makes everything around her seem so damn _lacking_. 

It hurts when Alex swallows, throat tight.  Because there’s a gap between them right now, and the bandages and stitches pull when she moves, signs that Alex is sitting here a lot more broken than she’d like to admit.  And it makes her wonder why Lucy’s _still here_. 

“I’m mad at you, you know.”  Lucy’s casual tone belies her words, but when Alex looks at her, she can see that anger simmering just beneath the surface.  Ah. 

“I kinda figured.” 

“ _Good_ ,” Lucy growls, stalking forward.  “Because for someone _so goddamn_ smart that was really _fucking_ stupid.” 

“No, please, don’t hold back.  Tell me what you really think.”  Because sarcasm is automatic and she’s tired and so what if her tongue’s a little sharper than it should be. 

Lucy stops right in front of her, arms folded across her chest.  “What, when you’re being an idiot?  Alex, you are human.  That means you’re about as tough as a _wet paper bag_ to some of these aliens.  And I know you know this, so that means I have no goddamn clue what the hell you were thinking.  I don’t even know if you _were_ thinking.” 

Alex bites back her first response.  And her second.  It won’t end well, not when Lucy is lashing out.  “I was thinking that Kara needed backup and no one else was there.  So I made a call.” 

“One that ended up with you on the casualty list.  Fantastic call, there.” 

“It wasn’t a choice!” 

“Bullshit!  You almost died!  And then were would we be?” 

“Better me than her!”  Alex yells.  And maybe it’s the painkillers.  Maybe it’s the exhaustion and the frustration or something else entirely, but she can’t stop her mouth.  “From where I’m looking, the world needs Supergirl a hell of a lot fucking more than Alex Danvers!” 

The silence in the apartment is nearly deafening.  That wasn’t supposed to come out, not to Lucy, not to anyone.  The words sit there, out in the open like shattered glass, broken and ugly. 

But they’re true.  In the great equation of her life, there’s an obvious variable that should be weighted zero and thrown out.  Alex has known this truth for a very long time. 

Lucy’s hands drop to her sides, face terrifyingly blank.  “And what about the rest of us?”  Alex blinks.  “Those of us who really would want Alex Danvers?  Don’t we get a say?  What do you think you dying would do to Kara?  J’onn?  Me?”  She rubs a hand over her face.  “Fucking hell, Alex.” 

The math is so easy.  It’s stark and obvious and absolutely no comfort against the hurt drawn clearly on Lucy’s face.  The guilt sits heavily in Alex’s stomach, twisting her up into knots.  She drops her head, hair falling to form a shield between the two of them because she can’t stand to let Lucy look at her.  Because she can’t regret it, can never regret standing between Kara and danger, and what does that say about her, that she’ll choose to cause hurt every damn time? 

Alex knows she doesn’t deserve these people, and she’s going to let the world take the debt in blood because maybe, maybe, maybe one day, it’ll be enough. 

She hears Lucy shift her weight and closes her eyes.  She knew this wasn’t going to end well.  So she waits to hear Lucy’s footsteps walk away, waits to hear the door slam, and for everything to fall apart again. 

A hand gently brushes the hair out of her face.  She can feel the calluses on fingers (formed from handling a gun so often, she has her own) run along her cheek, tracing a path up to the bandage wrapped around her head.  Alex opens her eyes, confused, and sees Lucy half-crouched in front of her. 

“You’re an idiot,” she says, but her smile is wry and almost...fond?  “Selfless, but an idiot.” 

All Alex can do is blink stupidly.  Even when Lucy presses dry lips to her forehead. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she murmurs as she pulls away, settling back onto the couch.  “But...this isn’t the time.  We’re gonna have to work on that, but...just promise me you’ll be more careful.” 

Alex bites her lip, says nothing.  How can she make that promise, considering everything?  And she can’t lie, can’t break her word.  “Lucy...” 

“If not for yourself, then for the rest of us.” 

“I’ll...I’ll try.”  It’s all she can get out, push past a leaden tongue.  She closes her eyes and doesn’t resist as Lucy pulls her closer, lets her head fall against her shoulder.  (Lucy smells like soap and cordite, a juxtaposition that soothes something inside her, a memory that maybe she’ll be able to hold onto for just a little while longer.)  She breathes in deep, chest hurting.  “I’ll try.” 

“I suppose I should be happy with that,” Lucy says, huffing a small laugh.  “You are going to be impossible, aren’t you?”  She runs her fingers through Alex’s hair, and Alex wonders if it’s the drugs because this just seems to be going too smoothly and that this is all going to come back to bite them in the ass.  (Which makes no sense because Lucy isn’t the one having happy fun times with chemistry and fuck her head hurts.) 

“It’s a talent,” she mumbles into Lucy’s shirt, suddenly exhausted. 

A finger pokes her hard in the shoulder.  “All right, let’s get your talented ass to bed, before we add a sore neck to your list of problems.” 

Alex can’t help the small whine that leaves her throat, but with much prodding, manages to extract herself from the couch and stumble to the bedroom.  She barely manages to kick off her boots into some corner before collapsing onto the bed. 

“I’ll call Kara and let her know you’re safe in bed.  She’ll probably want to stop by later.”  Lucy starts to walk out of the room. 

Later, she doesn’t know why she does it.  Maybe it’s the conversation that they’re going to need to have if this thing isn’t going to crash and burn, and letting things end now seems like a fast-track there.  Maybe it’s something else.  But Alex ignores the screaming in her ribs and reaches out to grab Lucy’s wrist.  “Stay.” 

Lucy stills. 

It’s a bad idea, too easy to send the wrong signal and goddammit, the last thing she wants to do is hurt her.  “I...” But she can’t find the words, can’t get them past the sudden dryness in her mouth.  (I’m sorry I scared you.  I’m sorry I’m not good enough.  I’m sorry I’m sorry)  Lucy presses her lips together. 

“Alex...” 

This is a bad idea.  But at the same time, Alex is certain watching her go will just be an even more terrible decision.  She can feel the slight twitch under her palm, tense and clammy, but Lucy doesn’t pull away and Alex grips a little tighter.  She still can’t get the words out.  But it doesn’t matter, because Lucy hand relaxes and her fingers wrap around Alex’s wrist. 

She sighs.  “Budge over.  I’m not gonna fit on the bed if you sprawl.” 

Lucy is a solid warmth at her back, and before she spirals off into sleep, Alex thinks that even if and when this all ends, at least there is this.


End file.
